Demon Hunters and Their Pets
by sarahofearth
Summary: Dean decides to get a pet, to Sam’s horror. But, of course, there’s something odd about this puppy. Well, maybe odd’s a bit of an understatement. Evil works better. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, I've decided to join into the Supernatural fic-writing fad and write this story. I won't continue without some feedback so please review!

_This fic is dedicated to Christie, my internet sister. I hope you don't mind me writing this before we co-write. You rock!_

Demon Hunters and Their Pets- Chapter 1

"Don't you think anybody ever finds it suspicious that you get forty different knives sharpened and polished?" Sam asked as his brother packed up the assortment of newly cleaned weapons.

Dean looked up from admiring his blades.

"What's suspicious about that?" he asked, staring quizzically at his brother.

Sam shook his head.

Once Dean had finally finished packing up the weaponry they started to head for the south exit.

Sam continued to walk through the center, staring at the different shops, until he noticed that his brother wasn't walking with him anymore. He sighed. _Probably hitting on some girls… _He retraced his steps a little and found his brother staring fondly at the puppies through the glass of "Sandy's Pet-tastic Emporium."

He walked over to his brother and gave him an irritated glare. Dean continued to admire the lovable puppies nuzzling their noses against the glass. Sam cleared his throat loudly.

"Oh, hey, Sam. Carry these for me, will ya." Dean said absentmindedly, thrusting the case of knives into Sam's arms and walked into the store.

Sam gawked at his brother. He wasn't thinking of actually getting one of those _things_… was he? Sam shuddered at the thought, but reluctantly followed his brother in.

A wave of animal poop odor hit Sam once he entered the shop. He plugged his nose and tried to find his brother.

Sam found his brother crouched in front of a chihuahua's glass cage. He was rubbing his finger against the glass, smiling at the small dog.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

Dean looked up from his cooing.

"I'm just looking, there's no harm in that." He said, smiling shrewdly.

Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I know that look, Dean." Sam sighed.

"What look?" Dean asked, laughing a little. "My face is _really_ this hot."

Sam sighed again while Dean went back to looking at dogs. He stopped suddenly at a terrier's window. He smiled at it tenderly.

"You're a cute one." He said dotingly. "I think I'll call you Scrappy." Dean looked up at Sam after saying this, the "look" on his face again.

"No, Dean." Sam said firmly.

"Please, Sam. I know you have all that extra money from your college fund!" Dean pleaded.

"No, Dean." Sam replied again sternly.

I don't see what you have against dogs!" Dean said, getting on the defensive. "You used to love Scar."

"I used to love Scar!" Sam repeated incredulously. "You loved Scar. I think you were to affectionate-high to see that the beast almost ate me alive!"

By now a few people had cast some wary glances to the two brothers.

"God, Sam, he was just a dog." Dean said, directing reassuring smiles to the strangers. "Anyways, that's beside the point. He was a big dog this one is very small, not to mention extremely cute. See, he's perfect or me." Dean finished, grinning.

Sam shook his head, sighing exasperatedly.

"Fine, I'll buy him myself." Dean said smugly. "I don't need any help from an adorable-puppy-hater."

"Dean, the money isn't the issue. The dog would be too much of a hassle. It would poop everywhere and bark at everything." Sam exclaimed.

"I know what puppies _do_, thank you very much. Besides, we could train it to hunt down the monsters and bad guys, heck, maybe he could replace you." Dean said, laughing.

"Dean, I mean it, no."

"Who's a good boy?" Dean said to the shaggy terrier now sitting on his lap. Sam was driving down the road going over the past events. Dean had gotten the dog so quickly he could barely remember getting in the car… "Scrappy's a good boy."

Dean continued to pet and fuss over the puppy the whole drive, and the puppy seemed to be enjoying every minute.

"I was reading a map while we were in the mall," Sam started. "We'll stop by the motel at Kingman and we should be in Goodyear by tomorrow." Dean wasn't paying attention though, he had picked up the puppy's arms and was 'beating up' Sam.

"Yeah, give him the right-one-two," Dean advised, nudging the puppy's paws into Sam. "Kick his butt, oh yeah, knock out!" Dean cheered, pushing the paw harder into Sam's coat.

"Dean, quit it," Sam said shortly.

The puppy growled.

"You see what you did, Sam? You ruined Scrappy's fun. I'd shape up if I were you, mister." Dean chided. "You won't have any friends at this rate, animal or human."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said, turning into the motel.

"Ruff, ruff, ruff!" the puppy barked. He was originally on Dean's bed, but he found his way over to Sam's, and was now yapping madly into the sleeping, young man's ear. "Ruff!"

"Ugh," Sam groaned, rolling over. At this movement, the small dog walked onto the taller man's chest. "Ruff!" he said louder this time.

Sam slowly awoke then sat up. He picked up the dog walked over to Dean's bed. "Dean, I think your stupid dog wants to take a crap." Sam said grumpily, sticking the dogs face in front of Dean's.

"Five more minutes, Sam," Dean mumbled, rolling onto his other side.

Sam sighed and prodded Dean's back.

"Get up, you wanted this flea bag, you have to take care of him." Sam said, getting annoyed. He nudged Dean harder, but he knew all attempts would only be in vain.

"Stupid, irresponsible jerk…" Sam grumbled, glowering down at the sleeping form of his brother.

Scrappy barked again.

Sam sighed once again and went to the bag of new dog things. He unwrapped the new leash and clipped it to the puppy's collar. He grabbed the plastic bag for whatever poop the dog might leave behind and put on his shoes and coat.

The dog was getting excited at these actions and was now running crazily around the room, barking at everything.

"You are doing way too much yapping for two in the morning," Sam said, yawning. He finally caught the leash and pulled the dog over to the door. He unlocked the door and left the small room, casting one last glare towards his slumbering brother.

"Please," Sam said, getting tired of all the puppy's sniffing. "Take your crap so I can go back to sleep."

The dog looked up at Sam and blinked.

"Ruff," he said, continuing his sniffing.

Sam grumbled something about dog laxatives before complying with the dog's leash tugging.

Sam dozed off a little at a tree Scrappy was particularly interested in, but was immediately awoken at the sound of loud barking.

"Wasgoingon," Sam said, staring wildly about him. He saw Scrappy running off into a thicket of bushes, leash dragging behind him, chasing after some sort of black figure. Sam rushed after him, hastily taking out his emergency gun from his coat.

He arrived at the thicket and crouched low behind a bush, peering over the top of the shrub.

"Give me back me dog!" Sam yelled out, searching the place or any movement.

He spotted a rustle from the corner of his eye and shot a round off. A whimper escaped from the spot he shot at and Sam immediately tensed. _Oops…_

The young man crept over, still staring cautiously at his surroundings.

Sam pushed aside the branches to find Scrappy, bleeding profusely out of his right front leg. He was whimpering sadly, nursing the leg Sam's bullet grazed.

_I'm lucky I didn't kill it…Dean would've definitely killed me._

Sam quickly walked over to the wounded puppy and kneeled down to him. He picked up the injured leg, causing Scrappy to whimper, and examined it closely.

"It's okay, it's okay," Sam soothed more to himself than the dog. He carefully picked up the puppy into his arms and over his shoulder. "Let's get you home, buddy."

As Sam walked home, favoring the animal over his shoulder, a flash of yellow, unnoticed by anything, snapped into the puppy's eyes and instantly vanished.

Sam reached the apartment around 3 am and found a small first aid kit in the guest bathroom. He fixed the puppy's wound, and dressed it in tan gauze.

He laid him gingerly onto a pile of extra blankets and petted it gently.

"Please, act perfectly alright in the morning so Uncle Sammy doesn't get his butt kicked by your daddy, okay?" He implored to the small dog.

Scrappy whined in reply and dropped its head to the blankets.

Sam sighed and cast a wary stare towards his older brother. He knew it was a bad idea to get the stupid dog.

"Dean's going to kill me," Sam groaned.

_Not if I do first…_

A/N: Yeah, that was a bit cheesy, but hey, I thought this turned out pretty good. By the way, they're in Arizona, since that's the only place I know the major cities to because (duh!) I live there. Also, the dog is a bit of a Mary-Sue I guess because this fat guy found this dog behind this trash dump and gave it to me. It's not a glamorous tale, so what? Anyways, I gave it the name Scrappy because it was so danged cute, but I had to give it to the Humane Society because it almost bit my sister's thumb off… I'll miss you, Scrappy! Anywho, please tell me what you think about this. Press the pretty purple button down there. See it? Swell. I'll update this if you really want me to.

Sarah


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for all your kind reviews. No flames, yay. does the no-flames dance Here's chapter two!

_As I don't think you're allowed to change the dedication of a story, this fic is still dedicated to Christie. (I'm Dean. You can be Sam 'cause you're probably taller!)_

Demon Hunters and Their Pets- Chapter 2

"I cannot believe you hurt Scrappy!" Dean cried, staring wide-eyed at the bandage around the puppy's leg. The young man had just woken up and had gone to check on his new dog only to find the dressed wound.

"Muh? Wha?" Sam mumbled groggily. He was still very tired from last night's events and had slept longer than he expected.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, holding his dog in one arm, shoving his brother awake with his other. "What did you to my dog?"

Sam rubbed his face, going over what Dean just said in his mind. _Dog, dog, dog… Oh my gosh, dog!_

"I can explain," he blurted out.

""Now, would be nice," Dean pointed out.

Sam sighed and looked up at his brother. Dean's eyebrows were furrowed, scrutinizing his brother's face, his eyes filled with rage. _That puppy sucks. _He thought to himself, glaring at the dog.

"I didn't mean to shoot him, it was a total accident-" Sam started.

"You shot my dog!" Dean exploded. "I knew you hated him, Sammy, but that doesn't give you a right to try and kill him!"

"It only grazed his-"

"You've either been watching way too many Old Yeller movies or you're just plain evil!"

"But I-"

"I'm sticking with the latter of the two!" Dean said, his face livid.

Sam sighed. He knew this would be useless. _That dog really sucks_.

"I'm going to take a shower." Dean said finally after checking the dog over for more injuries. "I hope I can trust you not to kill Scrappy while I'm gone."

"I wasn't trying to kill him!" Sam exclaimed.

"Whatever…" Dean said, already stepping towards the bathroom, a towel slung over his shoulder.

Sam sighed once the door closed and fell back onto the bed. _Stupid jerk…_

The small dog watched the scene with curiosity. Once the show seemed to be over, something that looked close to a smile seemed to creep onto the puppy's face. He trotted over to the bed and hopped on top of it. He found that the distressed figure of Sam had fallen asleep when he fell backwards onto the bed. Walking lightly on to the young man, the dog stared interestingly at the tall brother's face. He arrived at his chest and stared intently at the closed lids.

All of a sudden the teeth of the puppy's grew at an alarmingly fast rate to where it was three times its original size. Sam squirmed a little on the bed but, fortunately for Scrappy, he didn't wake up. The dogs had a relieved look in his eyes and continued with his task.

Scrappy opened his jaws wide and leaned in close to Sam's face. Sam made a disturbed face and slowly opened his eyes.

"Bleh, what stinks?" he muttered, referring to the dog's breath. At the sight of the large fangs, Sam let out a yelp and backed up against the headboard. The dog jumped off the bed and resized its fangs just as Dean rushed in.

"What's going on?" Dean said, hair sopping wet and only his pants on.

He stared with concern at his panting brother. Sam was staring in total confusion and fright at the dog that now stared blankly at him.

"Th-that dog had teeth!" Sam finally got out, breathing hard.

"Way to point out the obvious," Dean said, still staring intently at his brother, a little weirded out by the situation.

"Scrappy was going to eat my face, Dean!" Sam cried, motioning dramatically at the innocent-looking puppy sitting on the floor.

Dean gave Sam a puzzled look.

"He was right here," Sam said, placing his hand in front of his face. "His teeth were this big!" He continued, placing his fingers apart about three inches.

Dean rolled his eyes and walked over to the puppy. Scrappy stared up at him, tilting its head. He picked it up and opened its mouth a little, examining his mouth.

"You're delusional," Dean concluded, placing the puppy on the bed. Sam flinched away. "Seriously, Sam, you were probably just dreaming it. I'm thinking you felt so guilty about shooting poor Scrappy that you imagined him coming back for revenge."

Sam cast an uneasy look at the puppy. He was wagging his tail, mouth gaping, like any regular dog. _Maybe Dean is right…_

"But it felt so real…" Sam said, furrowing his eyebrows at the dog.

"That's what all those 'victims' we've come across have said, Sam. You of all people should understand that the brain can do stuff like that." Dean replied, drying his hair off with his towel. "C'mon, we need to get headed out. We were supposed to be in Goodyear by evening." Dean said, casting a glance at the clock.

Sam rubbed his face and started packing, steering clear of a certain puppy.

"Let's stop by that Circle-K and pick up some snacks for Scrappy," Dean said, pointing out the nearby convenient store. He had let Sam drive again because he wanted to spend more quality time with his new puppy. They had been on the road for one hour and the only thing Dean did was rave about all the cool stuff they could train Scrappy to do.

Sam pulled up at a gas pump and killed the engine.

"I'm going to get some stuff. Can I trust you won't run my dog over while I'm gone?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows at his brother.

"I thought we were over this, Dean," Sam sighed.

"I just need some affirmation that you won't go bang-bang crazy with Scrappy again." Dean said, giving Sam a knowing look.

Sam groaned.

"Just go." He replied.

Dean smiled and gave his brother a playful punch before walking coolly into the store.

Sam stared at the panting puppy. He let out a labored breath, getting more nervous every minute spent with the dog. The dog turned its head toward him, causing Sam to tense up.

"Don't try anything," he warned.

Scrappy tilted his head in confusion as if to say, "I have no _clue_ what you're talking about." The dog moved over to the side of the door and placed his paw on the "lock" control. The doors made a sudden click, startling Sam.

The young man immediately switched it back to unlock, smirking at the puppy before him.

"Ha, I _knew_ you were really evil," Sam said, pointing at the dog. "You were just acting innocent in front of Dean!"

The dog appeared to have rolled his eyes. "Way to point out the obvious." Sam imagined it saying.

"I must say, you are a very smart dog, but I will prove it to Dean, you watch." Sam said, watching the puppy carefully. He noticed Dean approaching the car, bags of what would prove to be junk food in hand. Sam smirked once again at the evil Scrappy beside him.

Dean opened the door and set the plastic bags in the center of the two seats. He looked up at Sam who had an odd sort of look on his face.

"Something wrong, Sam?" He asked, looking at Sam with a questioning face.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary," Sam said casually, picking up the puppy so Dean could sit. "Just that your puppy's demon-possessed!" Sam finished quickly, shoving Scrappy's snout in front of his brother.

Dean backed his head up a bit to focus on Scrappy. He had on his usual innocent puppy face, nothing demon-y about that.

He looked at his brother incredulously.

"Somebody's been sniffing way too many gas fumes," Dean said to Scrappy, taking him out of his said crazy brother's hands.

"Dean, I'm telling the truth!" Sam cried. "He locked the door. I would've had to really kick his butt if you hadn't come back."

"Here we go again with you trying to kill my dog!" Dean said angrily, hugging his puppy close. "I don't think my dog should suffer just because you're crazy!"

"But-"

"No, Sam, you obviously have some issues with my dog, so I think you should just sit back there," poking a finger towards the backseats.

"Argh!" Sam said furiously, exiting the car jerkily to get to the back.

"Don't worry, Buddy," Dean reassured his canine friend as his brother went into the back seat. "I'll keep you safe from that psycho."

Sam arrived at the other side of the door and glared at the puppy inside. The puppy replied with something that looked like a smirk.

Sam wrenched the door open and slammed it loudly as he settled himself in the backseat.

"Geesh, Sam, calm down," Dean said, petting Scrappy tenderly.

Sam just growled at the sweet, glowing-eyed puppy. _You suck._

A/N: Thank you for all the support. Seriously, reviews totally just make you want to write, so I suggest, if you like this story, that you give me a few. Please and thank you!

-Sarah .


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Ugh, sorry for this late update. I've been a bit on the busy side. This chapters a little shorter than the usual one, but hopefully you'll like it just he same. If not, review anyway!

Demon Hunters and Their Pets- Chapter 3

"Er, I think we passed it," Sam said, looking backwards out his passenger window at the endless line of identical houses, in other words, the suburbs.

"What do you mean we passed it?" Dean said, tearing his eyes from the road to glare at his brother. "Aren't you paying attention?"

Sam had been keeping a steady eye on the dog that now sat comfortably in Dean's lap, supposedly "sleeping." Ever since the little incident at the gas station he had become quite paranoid.

_Don't fall asleep, Sam. He'll breathe on you with his poisonous breath and you'll suffocate in your sleep, but Dean won't hear it because the dog would probably put him in a box in the ocean with his mind powers._

"Earth to, Sam, helloooo?" Dean was waving a hand in front of his little brother's face, trying to drive with the other. "You're putting me in a very uncomfortable position, so would you please snap out of it?"

Sam snapped back to the annoyed expression on his brother's face.

"I know reading a map may seem like a difficult task, Sammy, but I really need to get to this guy's house." Dean said.

Sam glared.

"It's Sam."

"Just tell me which number, okay, _Sam_?" Dean said, making a U-turn at a cul-de-sac.

"2098, that one," Sam said, pointing to a quaint two-story house, with the usual desert landscape.

Dean parked the car onto the sidewalk and turned off the engine. He got his duffle bag out from the back seat and pulled out a leash and the leather "monster log." He clipped the leash onto the puppy and handed the book over to his brother.

"I was reading over some stuff last night. From what this guy tells me, we may be dealing with a type of hunting creature." Dean said, pointing out the bookmarked page. "Or we may be dealing with just a very strange man…"

"What's the plan then? Do you want me to go talk to this guy some more?" Sam asked, leafing through the book.

"Are you kidding me? Scrappy needs some fresh air, but he's not going to get any stuffed in an old library. I'm going to talk to this guy, and you'll go to the library." Dean explained. "Like hell I would leave him with you one more time." He said, petting his puppy tenderly.

"I wouldn't want to be stuck with that demon-mutt anyway," Sam mumbled, glaring darkly at the puppy.

"Excuse me?" Dean asked.

"Nothing." Sam said innocently, pulling the keys out of the ignition and exiting the car.

"Not a scratch on my baby," Dean said firmly, walking Scrappy out of the car.

"Whatever."

"Hello, I'm Dean Christenson. I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation." Dean said, flipping out his fake ID. The young man who answered the door peered at the badge for a moment before Dean flipped it close.

"I didn't think my case would be this important." He said, a look of surprise on his face.

"Mr. Daniels, never overestimate the FBI." Dean said seriously.

The young man gave him a quizzical look before opening his door to Dean.

"Okay, come on in," he said. "I'm Patrick by the way."

"We know," Dean said somberly. He walked in, Scrappy following at his heels.

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you had a dog with you." Patrick said, staring fondly at the puppy. The dog gave him a weird look.

Patrick reached out to pet him and Scrappy growled fiercely. The man snatched his hand back.

"Umm, he's gets a bit defensive in the morning." Dean said. "Just yesterday, my brother said he… Well, that's a different story. Could we get to the crime scene please?"

"Uhh, yeah, sure," Patrick replied, staring bewildered at the dog. "Usually all dogs like me…" he mumbled.

The young man led the puppy and Dean into the backyard. The backyard was filled with pink rocks and small gardens at every corner.

"This is a pretty nice backyard," Dean commented.

"Uh, thanks," Patrick said, a little surprised at the agent's remark. "Over there is where I found my BoBo's body," Patrick said, sounding a little emotional by just saying it.

"Er, thanks, you can go inside now, Mr. Daniels. I'm just going to search around for now." Dean said uncomfortably.

Patrick pursed his lips and nodded quickly, plodding back to his house.

Dean stared with a confused expression at the man before bringing his attention back to the taped-off section of the backyard.

He walked with his usual cool stride over to it, Scrappy trotting closely behind him. He bent down closer and examined the rocks for quite some time. Dean finally noticed Scrappy sniffing at a big, smoking ditch to the side of the backyard.

_That was definitely not there before…_

Dean gave a quizzical stare at the ditch and then at the puppy sitting beside it.

"Hey, buddy, what happened here?" Dean said, crouching over the hole.

The dog jerked his head up at his owner's voice and gave him an eerie stare. Almost instantly, the puppy knocked Dean into the deep ditch.

Dean rolled down with a big thud, landing the wrong way on one of his legs.

"Geesh, ow." Dean moaned. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to repress a cry of agony from the pain emanating from his leg which was in an odd position on the floor.

Dean stared at Scrappy who was staring at him with an odd expression of calmness and glee.

"Scrappy, go get Patrick," He said through clenched teeth. "Pat-rick. Heck, just start barking or something. God, my leg!"

Scrappy's eyes turned a brilliant red and his teeth were growing at an alarming rate.

Dean's eyes widened in horror.

"Stupid dog. Stupid Dean. They both suck. Stupid thing tried to kill me, but does that get through Dean's thick skull? Nooo." Sam was in a pissy attitude since he had arrived at the library. He was scrolling quite violently though the newspaper articles, reminiscing on the thought of the stupid puppy which was causing him so much fury.

"'I don't want you to kill my dog again.'" Sam mocked. "Pfft, yeah right, it was the freaking other way around!"

People were staring at him now. The librarian glared at him, pressing a finger hard to her lips.

Sam gave a 'sorry' expression and went back to scrolling.

_Even talking about the stupid thing gets me in trouble. It's probably killing Dean right now. Serves him right for not believing me-_

Sam stopped in mid-thought. Sweat started to collect at his forehead.

"Oh God, Dean."

A/N: Well, that was short. I promise I'll make the next one longer and faster posted. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry if I kept you waiting. Don't forget to review.

Disclaimer: I just noticed that I haven't ever put one of these in here… Oops. Well, I think it's obvious that I don't own this so, there.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"_Maybe Sam was right about that dog…"_ Dean thought to himself as he was being launched through the air from another one of the puppy's blows. He landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the ditch, blood dripping from his head.

Dean tried to shake some of the dizziness away, but the world just wouldn't stop spinning. The4 puppy was approaching Dean quickly, its teeth bared.

"Is something going on?" the familiar of Patrick woke Sam a little from his daze. "I heard a- Hey, what the heck happened to my backyard!"

"Go inside, Patrick," Dean blurted out.

Scrappy's eyes shined a brighter red as it changed its course to Patrick. The young man backed away slowly.

"Uhh, is something wrong with your dog, Agent Dean?" Patrick said, staring warily at the puppy drawing nearer.

"Get inside your home!" Dean yelled. He picked up a large rock and through it at the puppy. The dog seemed unaffected by the action and continued to advance on Patrick.

Patrick backed into one of the porch columns and stared at the dog fearfully.

Dean couldn't see the whole ordeal very well, half because he was woozy and half because it was out of his line a vision. This left him very worried.

Dean's feelings of the worst were affirmed when he saw Patrick being hurled into the air as he was a few minutes ago. The young man crashed backwards into a big brick wall and landed harshly onto the floor. He groaned which was a good sign he hadn't died yet.

Scrappy trotted back into view, his eyes shining crimson now, and hopped back into the ditch to finish the business with Dean.

Dean tried to focus his eyes on the puppy, but it seemed to get harder and harder to do so. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was the dog collapsing on the floor.

_That's odd…_

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Please don't be dead. God, let my brother be alive." Sam had been repeating those two lines since he had left the library. The young man had also been driving several miles over the speed limit, so he also was saying a few other lines.

"Please don't let that be a cop at that intersection."

To Sam's dismay, it was.

The red and blue lights flashed against his windows, causing Sam to panic.

_The law or your brother? The law or your brother? Those really shouldn't be the options, Sam!_

Sam continued to drive faster. Sam could spy the cop's glare though his rearview window and cringed.

_I'm in so much trouble._

Now Sam was hoping that Dean _was_ hurt, so that maybe he wouldn't get into that much trouble when he stopped. He arrived in the neighborhood of the victim's house and remembered that he had forgotten the address.

_Could this rescue suck any more than it does now!_

Sam tried hard to remember any landmarks that would set it apart from others.

_Ah, that one big Doberman statue that Dean said looked like me in the morning!_

…That was a bittersweet thought.

Sam scanned the fast passing houses for the dog sculpture and halted suddenly when he finally spotted it. Doing so caused quite a wreck with the two police cars that were trailing so close behind him though.

_Oops…. Dean's going to kill me._

Sam rushed out of the car, glancing at the cops, who were trying to release themselves from the wrecked cars, and the damaged rear of Dean's car. He put the worry of Dean strangling him to the side and ran for the side-gate.

He hopped over the wooden and metal fence, three officers following suite behind him, and ran over to the side of the backyard.

Sam saw the body of some twenty-something-year-old lying in a heap to the side and continued to scan the area for his brother.

He finally spotted his brother. His head was lolling at the demon-dog slowly advancing on him. Sam went to stop the dog, but found himself restrained suddenly by strong arms.

Sam looked bewilderedly to his sides and found that the officers had finally caught up and now had him held back.

"Wait, no, stop this. That's my brother down there!" Sam cried, pointing with his restrained hand down the ditch. "That puppy is going to kill him!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell that crappy story to the judge." The officer replied, taking out a pair of handcuffs.

"You have to believe me, can't you see that he's going to eat my brother!" Sam yelled, struggling to get out of their grips.

The officers studied the puppy for a moment, not noticing anything out of the usual. One of them whistled at him, making the dog's head turn, exposing its lengthy fangs.

"Holy crap, what the heck is wrong with that puppy!" one of the officers yelled, releasing his hold on Sam trying to take out his gun.

Suddenly, a shot went off and the puppy collapsed.

Everybody in looked at the officer who was trying to take his gun out before, assuming it was him, and found him looking around confusedly too.

"Who shot the dog?" one of the officers asked.

A rustling was heard in a bush over the fence and two of the cops raced over to check it out.

Sam and two of the remaining officers cautiously slid down the ditch to examine the two bodies.

Sam kicked the puppy to make sure it was dead and backed away suddenly when black dust poured out of its shot wound.

"That's weird…" one of the officers commented, who was watching the scene.

Sam turned his attention to his wounded brother who sat in an unconscious state, both of his legs pointed in odd directions.

One of the officers walked over, checked for a pulse, and then pulled out his walkie-talkie.

"2-3-9-5-We need an ambulance over here on 2098 Valdez Street, that's 2098 Valdez Street." The cop repeated into his device.

Sam stared at his brother worriedly, waiting anxiously for the ambulance to come to make sure his brother was alright.

Sam glanced over at the body he had seen before and saw the young man being talked to by the officers. He stared over at Sam and smiled. Sam smiled confusedly back before hearing the ring of the ambulance trucks.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ugh," Dean groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his bed. "Ow."

Sam woke up from the chair he had been sitting in for who knows how long bringing his attention to his fidgeting brother.

"Dean? Dean, are you going to wake up?" Sam asked, prodding his brother on the shoulder.

"Ow, yes, stop jabbing me with pens now please," Dean said, opening his eyes lazily.

"I'm not jabbing- Oh, uh, sorry." Sam replied, forgetting for a moment about his brother's bruises.

"Where are we?" Dean said, rubbing his eyes groggily. "How long have I been out?"

"We're at the hospital; you've been asleep for about two days." Sam said.

"What?" Dean said, now slightly more awake. "What're we doing here?"

"You don't remember? You know, the demon-dog, Patrick Daniels, does any of this ring a bell?" Sam finished, after noticing his brothers confused expressions.

"It probably will in a couple of days," Dean said, trying to sit up. He grimaced when he noticed his legs didn't seem to let him. Sam pushed him back down onto the bed.

"You can't do that. The demon-dog fractured both your legs. I still can't believe you can't remember him; he must've fractured your brain too. That or it was already like that." Sam snickered.

Dean glared up at him.

"Where's Scrappy at?" Dean asked after a silence.

Sam gave him an incredulous look.

"Scrappy was the demon-dog! The demon-dog was Scrappy! How much evidence are you going to need before you believe me?" Sam cried.

Dean gave him a thoughtful look.

"Well, once you stop acting insane and paranoid would be a start…" Dean pointed out with a smile.

Sam got frustrated and hit his brother upside the head.

"Mr. Winchester, we do not allow the visitors to hit and yell at the patients. You leave now." A hefty nurse, who had been standing there for some time, said. She had her hands on her hips and was pointing firmly out the door. "I need to change Dean's medications anyway. You can visit again once you get more control."

"Yeah, Sam, you need to calm down." Dean reprimanded.

Sam glared livid at his brother before walking moodily out.

_It's good to have Dean back._

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"-He was a good dog. For the few moments when Sam wasn't trying to kill him and when he wasn't supposedly 'demon-possessed', those times were really great." Dean finished, dropping his small flower on the little gravestone.

Sam rolled his eyes at the comment.

"Who did you say was my Scrappy's killer?"

"It was the same guy who killed Patrick's dog Bobo." Sam exclaimed, staring at the little stone grave with the word "Scrappy" engraved into it. "It was just some man who didn't like canines. So I guess you were right about it being a strange man and not something supernatural."

"As per usual." Dean said with a grin.

"Why are you even here? That dog tried to eat me!" Sam asked.

"All dogs try to eat you, Sammy. Anyways, I still don't remember my sweet little puppy being evil." Dean said.

"Isn't the fact that you're in a wheelchair enough proof?" Sam asked, pointing at his brother's temporary transportation device.

"How do I know that you didn't just break my legs because you're crazy?" Dean asked, casting his brother a suspicious look.

"I give up!" Sam said, raising his hands in exasperation. He took hold of Dean's chair handles and wheeled him over to the car.

_Of course the dog was demon-possessed. Sam must really underestimate me. I just love provoking his frustration. I think it's a sibling thing…_

"Man, I think you're the suckiest rescuer on the planet." Dean said, as they approached his once-gorgeous Impala. "You left me with the enemy, wrecked my car, and you got us four driving tickets. I could have done a better job with my hands behind my back."

Sam just glared at his brother, thinking about how great it would feel to just push Dean out of his wheelchair to rot on the ground.

_Yep, it was always great to have Dean back…_

Fin.

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A/N: Yay, I actually updated pretty quickly! Well, on my standards at least. I hope you enjoyed reading my fic. Thanks to all my reviewers! I hope you leave a little comment on this last chapter.

Have a nice day,

-Sarah


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